


Trust

by JantoJones



Series: Stand-alone Two (The 2nd 100) [30]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 19:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13982127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones





	Trust

The cabin was small and roughly built, but that didn’t matter to Illya Kuryakin. There was storm brewing and he knew they needed to shelter from it. The structure seemed to be a hunters’ cabin, which could be used by anyone who needed it. Illya was grateful to discover that it was currently unoccupied. Over his shoulder, an unconscious Napoleon Solo groaned.

Illya was silently blaming his partner for their current predicament. Their assignment to infiltrate a known Thrush supplier and photograph their client lists, had gone exceptionally well. However, on their journey back, Napoleon had uttered the immortal words, ‘It’s nice to get an easy one from a change”. Illya had rolled his eyes at that, and warned the American of not speaking to soon. Although he tried to tell himself he didn’t believe in such things, Illya sometimes thought their assignments were cursed. They often went wrong for the smallest of reasons.

Sure enough, about two minutes after Napoleon’s declaration, the car shuddered to a stop. Before either man could investigate, thick smoke had begun to billow from beneath the hood. The pair looked at each other and then, without saying a word, had dived out of the vehicle; just as the engine burst into flames. A call to HQ for someone to pick them up had yielded nothing but directions to a train station. They were told that if they cut through the woodland, it would only take three hours. Luckily, the agents were dressed for burglary, so Napoleon didn’t have to worry about his expensive wardrobe.

Solo and Kuryakin were about halfway through their trek when the curse struck again. Napoleon lost his footing while climbing over the root of a tree and, as he’d fallen, had cracked his head against the trunk. Illya tried to rouse him for a couple of minutes but found that Napoleon was deeply unconscious. A crack of thunder overhead caused him to look up and he noticed the heavy clouds. A large drop of rain hit him in forehead. As he’d looked around for any kind of shelter he had made out the shape of the cabin through the trees.

Opening the door, Illya was pleasantly surprised to find a cot and an armchair inside. He laid Napoleon down and sat himself in the chair to wait out the rain. Although Napoleon had knocked himself out good and proper, Illya felt sure there would be no lasting damage. He thought about calling for assistance, but it could be some time before it got to them. Besides, Napoleon was starting to show signs of coming round.

Illya watched as his partner stirred. Had someone told him, back in his youth, that he would one day have a close friend who was an American, he would have laughed them out of the building. Depending on what stage of his life he was at, he may have even reported that someone for sedition. America was an enemy, and the thought of associating with one of her citizens, let alone befriending one, was a thought not to be borne.

Throughout his life, Illya had known many people whom he regarded as a friend. However, there were very few of those he would trust implicitly. That kind of trust was dangerous where he came from. Yet, against his every instinct, and everything he’d ever been told, Illya found himself putting his entire trust in one person. What was more, that person was an American.

Napoleon groaned loudly and opened his eyes. A hand immediately went to the pain on one side of his head.

“Did you get the number of that truck?” he asked, as he sat up and took in his surroundings. “Where are we?”

Illya explained what happened and that they were sheltering from the rain, after he had physically carried him to the cabin.

“Oh. In that case, thank you, Tovarisch.”

“You are welcome, my friend,” Illya replied. “Maybe one day I will be able to trust you . . . not to trip over your feet.”


End file.
